


Fractured

by Banashee



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Character Death, Mental Breakdown, Original Character Death(s), Other, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 17:23:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2237283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Banashee/pseuds/Banashee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war is over, and the Weasleys are back together in the burrow. But something has changed drastically. Everyone seems to be very upset, and George doesn't feel good, too. But at least, he still has Fred on his side, hasn't he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fractured

**Author's Note:**

> This is a post-war HP fanfiction I've written about a year ago, but only translated it lately. I own nothing, and I do not make any profit out of writing this - it's just for fun.

# Fractured

I'm sitting on the bed, in our old bedroom – the one we shared as children.

“Mum's crying a lot lately.”

You're right, she does. And the others do, too. But the war is over.

Maybe that's why, when all the feelings and emotions come again. All the things, that were suppressed before, to be ready to fight. It's peaceful now, but still...

It's depressing.

 

“Dinner must be ready soon.” you say.

“A bit of everyday life, Fred.” I answer, and you're nodding, as you lean on me. Then, the door moves open. Mum stands there, and looks at me with red, teary eyes.

“Dinner's ready, Dear.”

“Yeah, we're coming.” After that, she looks at me in a very strange way, presses her lips together, and turns around to go.

Downstairs in the kitchen I'm keeping the chair next to me for you, but there is no plate. As you sit down, you say nothing, which is weird, because so always say something. This is why I do it now for you – me, the more quiet twin.

“Mum, there's a plate missing.” I say, and point at the empty space on the table next to me. Now everyone's looking at me, giving me this strange feeling, to have said something wrong.

Sad, desperate. Understanding, but then again unappreciative.

They're all looking at me, and I look back – quiet. I can tell, that Mum's not the only one who had been crying. You notice it, too, and we both stay silent. Our family does, too.

 

*+~

 

A few days later.

It is hot and it is airless in this little church on the graveyard. My suit is very close, and makes it even hotter. We're on one of the many funerals, not the first, and long before the last one. But I really can't remember the name.

“What are we doing here?” I'm asking you quietly, and you're just looking at me, not answering. Mum is looking at me for a few seconds, as if she wanted to say something, but decides not to do so. She turns around, and buries her face in her hands.

She's crying again, and I feel sorry. But it seems, I cannot comfort her – nobody can, but I'm the last person who could. And I don't know, why. Strange looks, desperate and pitiful.

A little bit of hidden anger. I turn around, to look forward again, and reach for your hand. You're my twin, and your touch is relaxing me a little bit. In front of the crowd, there is a white coffin, with flowers, candles and chaplets.

Next to it, that guy with the beard, the one, who manages things like funerals in our magical world. He's talking, but it sounds monotone and bored, but the words he's choosing are not his own words, because they're full of love. They're coming from the dead ones family, for sure. You're looking at me, and you squeeze my hand a little more.

But then, suddenly the guy next to the coffin says your name.

“Fred Weasley. In grief and sorrow, we say goodbye to you, our beloved son, brother and friend...” My eyes are widening, and I'm sure I've heard it wrong. But no – it was load and clear.

 

My head turns, and there you are. Sitting right next to me, holding my hand. I'm talking to you,and you're answering me.

Why can't they see you? Are they blind? Blind and deaf? I'm turning to mum, and softly grab her arm. She's now crying even more.

“Mum, it's alright. Fred is here, right next to me, you see.” I whisper, try to calm her down, but she's crying more and more violently. Then she looks up at me, and teary eyes stare at me.

“George, your brother is dead! This is his funeral!” she breathes, with a powerless and broken voice. I at her, not understanding. She shakes her head. “There is no one beside you.”

Mum is crying again, and I turn my head. Want to look you in the eyes, but you're not there anymore.

Come back Fred, I need you here. Don't leave me alone... You've been here a minute ago – have you?

All I hear, is mum sobbing, then, my chair, which is falling loudly on the ground, as I jump up.

 

Then I hear my own scream.

 

 

THE END


End file.
